Dream

As I'm staring at the scars, I think about last night.
Not the animalistic, savage, destructive part.
But the part after my dad found me on the floor. After he panicked and rushed to me in my crumpled heap and choked out, "What happened Leah tell me what happened!" After I answered "I did" between my suffocating sobs. After he brought me to the car and drove me home in silence and watched as I collapsed into bed.

I'm thinking about when I slept. In the morning my dad asked if I had slept and I said no, because it felt like I hadn't. He asked if it was because of bad dreams and I said yes because that sounded like the right answer.
Later on in the day I realized I had slept all night and had one dream. The sleep wasn't resting, I didn't even remember it once I woke up. But the dream was strange.
I thought it would've been a flashback of the horrific night. That would make sense, and certainly wake and keep me up.

The dream was a vision if two homeless adults sitting on a roof. The woman was holding a child as the father was resting his head on his knees. I walked by pretending not to notice--something that we all do on a daily basis and something I hate in myself more than anything--but I always look back. And when I looked back I saw that the man had taken the baby in one arm and held the woman in the other.
I also remember noticing how the child was silent, never cried once.
The homeless family was also extremely large-not fat, but like giants.
I think that symbolizes how important they are, but yet the silence of the child symbolizes how we as a whole will consciously ignore them time after time.

This dream really bothered me.

-Beaskie